


The Second Meeting

by SilverCyanide (LemonFairy)



Series: Legerdemain [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Multi, Other, Queer Themes, References to Homophobia, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonFairy/pseuds/SilverCyanide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras isn’t here to coddle the people who spend every day oppressing and co-opting zir struggles, and ze makes that very well known. But sometimes, ze goes a little overboard on the assumptions, much to zir chagrin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter references specific incidents of heterosexism/cissexism (though not physical violence).  
> Also, reminder that not all opinions a character has are also shared by the author.

Next Thursday’s meeting has both a better and worse turn out than Enjolras expected. Better because three new people show up, taking their member total from eight to eleven. Worse because from the way two fuss over the third’s injury after falling down the stairs, there’s a pretty good chance this is just a poly couple trying to force their way into a queer space. And though Enjolras doesn’t want to be the bad cop, ze definitely does not want to put up with this BS anymore—ze had to deal with it in high school and sees it online all of the time, and it’s really damn tiring. It might be a flash judgment, but the discomfort settles in zir stomach and ze can’t get it to go away.

The girl of the trio, Musichetta, is the one who finishes up introductions and check in’s (“I use she, her, and hers, my high of the week was probably acing a reading quiz and my low was definitely the fact I’ve already had two papers due on the same day, and my favorite type of ice cream is by far butter pecan), and as soon as she finishes Enjolras find ze can’t keep zir mouth shut.

“I hate to bring this up so early,” ze starts, and can see the flicker of surprise across Combeferre’s face at zir tone, “and it’s certainly nice to see fresh faces, but I just want to issue a reminder that we’ve chosen to vague language to include people who are questioning whether they fit into the LGBT spectrum and not as a way to include cisgender, heterosexual polyamorous people. This is an exclusively queer space, and poly people co-opting queer terminology and struggles that they do not have is frustrating and causes problems for actual queer people, so if you happen to be—”

There’s a long, low whistle from a few people over. Everyone turns to see it came from Musichetta, eyebrows raised.

“Now those, those are some vast assumptions about us—myself in particular—that you’re making, and they’re not appreciated. Though even here it’s none of your business, I can assure you, since you’re oh-so-concerned, that I am equally attracted to men and women, and though I cannot speak for my two partners, it’s rather early to make vast, exiling statements, don’t you think?”

Enjolras blinks, mind blank for a half second. Ze can feel the slight blush fighting its way up but suppresses it well.

“You’re right,” ze says after a moment, and some of the room exhales. “I apologize for the assumptions. However it is often necessary in these situations to make them. I hope you can understand my wariness and the need to take precautions.”

Musichetta looks zir over carefully, and awkwardness collects as every second passes. But finally she nods and says, “Apology accepted. It is… unfortunate but true that there is often inappropriate usage of queer terminology by the poly community. But I’ve also seen a lot of crossover between the two communities, which is where it makes it difficult—because queer poly people should be able to use that language to describe their own struggles if they so choose.”

“But they shouldn’t be using it to describe their poly experiences as if they’re the same.”

Musichetta shrugs. “Sometimes, they are.” Enjolras opens zir mouth to respond, but doesn’t get the chance before Bossuet speaks.

“She’s right. And honestly, I’ve had more people tell me being in a relationship with two people at once is wrong and unnatural than I have tell me my attraction to men is. Which yeah, isn’t true for everyone, but on a personal level these experiences have a lot of similarities in the way I’m perceived.”

Enjolras tenses but rolls these words over in zir mind. Next to zir, Combeferre can sense this will escalate, and makes the decision to cut it off before it starts.

“This is certainly an important topic to discuss—I don’t want to imply it isn’t—but I also think it might be one more appropriate for a later date.” He fiddles with his glasses and pushes them up. Enjolras looks rather betrayed, and Musichetta seems a tad peeved, but Bossuet (and Joly and Jehan) looks relieved which is enough to reassure Combeferre.

Finally, Enjolras clears zir throat and, in an awkward transition, says, “It is unfortunate you’ve been on the receiving end of those comments. I know many of us have experience with similar ones. Perhaps now is an appropriate time to open the floor for discussion of those.”

There are a few more seconds of uncomfortable silence. Then, Combeferre says in a gentle voice, “My literature professor has dropped several slurs, both homophobic and racist, since the beginning of term. I’ve… briefly considered confronting him but haven’t personally felt up to the challenge.” Courfeyrac is sitting next to him, and she presses her foot against his firmly as a way to say she’s there.

Quietly, Jehan pipes up, “Dr. Garret refuses to use my preferred name, even though I talked to her after class, which is really frustrating. She—I know she’s doing it purposely, and it’s… it makes me really uncomfortable.”

“That’s bullshit.” It comes from, of all people, Grantaire, who looks like he’s taking Jehan’s struggles personally. “No, seriously. What the fuck.” He sighs and crosses his arms. “She needs to get her head out of her ass. And I’ll write that on my end of semester evaluation if you won’t. Just like I’ll be writing ‘douchebags continue to call their friends ‘fags’ and ‘gay’ as a replacement for ‘stupid’ when I get called in to explain why I lost it and socked someone.”

Bahorel raises his hand and mutters an, “Amen.” Enjolras reaches down to zir bag and pulls out a notepad and pen. Ze writes down “anti-slur campaign” and turns back to the room, where it seems a fire has been lit.

“People assuming you’re straight just because you don’t talk about not being.”

“Or because you don’t fit their ‘idea’ of gay; you’re too masculine, you can’t like guys! ‘That’s gross’!”

“My literature professor last year—Sullivan—liked to treat characters’ queerness as something that exists solely to make men weak. And of course, ‘it didn’t count’ if they were women.”

“I’m tired of people telling me ‘it’s a phase’ and then on the other side of the coin, people saying I can’t really be trans* because I’m fluid.” Jehan’s eyes are downcast and they blush when they say it, but the statement is firm.

Across the room, her own eyes locked on her hands, Musichetta says, “I’m tired of people deciding that I can’t be queer because my relationships present as straight.”

“I’m tired…” Cosette’s voice is tentative, but everyone turns to look at her, and so she speaks up. “I’m tired of it being acceptable for teachers and administrators to preach that ‘homosexuality is an abomination’. I think… sometimes, I think I’m just tired of organized Catholicism.” She blinks back tears, but if anyone notices, they say nothing.

From the corner armchair, the same one he folded himself into last week, Feuilly half barks, “I’m so done with being told a label is the only proper way to exist and if you can’t find the right one you’re really just straight.” Then, before anyone can add it, he says, “And don’t fucking tell me the q word is fine, I don’t feel comfortable using it, thanks.”

There’s a small moment of silence.

“I’m tired of people deciding how much a person is or isn’t allowed to define themselves in terms of being queer,” Enjolras finishes, and zir voice is soft but fierce. “If it doesn’t matter for you? Great. But it matters for me, so kindly stop talking.” There is a brief murmur of agreement across the room. Very softly, Enjolras’ watch beeps, indicating the technical hour they set aside each week has expired. Ze glances around the circle, but no one else moves to speak, so ze nods curtly at Combeferre, whose hand rests comfortably on Enjolras’ forearm.

“That seems like a good place for us to end this week. Thank you all for coming; we hope to see you next week. Same time, same place, and feel free to bring your friends,” he says with a genuine warmness only Combeferre seems to posses. The occupants of the room file out, Cosette shows people the door, and only, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras are left. Courfeyrac lets out a long, deep sigh.

“So,” she says, “That was… an adventure.”

“We’ll get there,” Enjolras says. “I’ll… work on it, and we’ll get there.”

“We will,” Combeferre says firmly, and means it, as he tugs the two of them upstairs as well.


End file.
